Not Good Enough
by Rachele 20
Summary: Since their first mission, there has been tension between Illya Kuryakin and Gabriella Teller and slowly they have developed feelings for one another. But when Gaby reunites with an 'old German friend' of hers, Illya is jealous. Will Illya finally admit his feelings for Gaby? Gallya One Shot (Note: If you like Klaroline you might like this)


Chapter 1

A/N: This is an AU story of the Man from U.N.C.L.E. I do not own Man from U.N.C.L.E

Authors Note: I watched the Man from U.N.C.L.E starring Henry Cavill, Armie Hammer and Alicia Vikander. And I fell in love with the characters; Illya Kuryakin (portrayed by Armie Hammer) and Gabriella Teller (portrayed by Alicia Vikander). The two of them together, have so much chemistry. I just want Guy Ritchie, the director to make a sequel and get those two together. The ending scene with the two of them was torture, there's always an interruption every time you think they're going to finally kiss! Still so much unresolved sexual tension!

For those of you who haven't seen the Man from U.N.C.L.E, I would really recommend watching it if you are a big Klaroline (Klaus and Caroline) Fan like me, obviously since I am always writing stories about those two. Lol In a way Illya and Gaby are like them or a sort of beauty and the beast kind of love story. Whereas instead of Illya being an original hybrid or Gaby being a baby vampire, Illya is a KGB agent and Gaby is a car mechanic but secretly a British agent despite that she's actually German.

Anyway here is a one shot that I thought of; this is when Gaby meets an old German 'friend' of hers, on a mission. Illya become jealous especially when he learns that, that the two of them have a 'history' together. Despite Gaby's reassurance that they are just friends now, Illya can't help but think back to what her Uncle Rudi had once said. This is my first time writing fanfiction for the Man from U.N.C.L.E.

* * *

Not Good Enough

"Hold on!" She yelled. Gaby planted her foot down on the accelerator and the 1962 Jaguar MK 2 car lurched forward flying down the street. Napoleon Solo, jerked forward in the back seat slightly.

He was currently looking over the street map directing Gaby back to the hotel, just like when he and Gaby had first met.

Illya Kuryakin sat in the passenger seat, removing his revolver from the inside of his jacket pocket. Grasping the lever on the side of his door with his other hand; he rolled the window down. Just enough, so that he could point the gun out the window; towards the other car that was trailing behind them.

Napoleon and Illya had gone to investigate the Martargraci warehouse for their current mission given to them by Alexander Waverly, their team operator. But unfortunately they were caught, and had to high tail out of there. Lucky for them, Gaby had thought ahead and with her mechanic skills she stole a car along; with saving their asses. Now they were trying to lose the guards and get back to the hotel.

"First immediate left- then right," Napoleon ordered. Gaby turned on the wheel, jerking the car to the left. A screeching sound of protest could be heard from the tires. The first road to the right that she saw next, she turned just as a few shoots had been fired by the car trailing behind them.

Illya in turn fired a few shots at the enemy behind them. One of the bullets hit the tires on the other car. A popping sound was heard, and the other car began to swerve out of control before crashing into one of the cars parked on the side of the road.

"Next, right followed by a left then continue straight." Gaby did as he advised and before they knew it they were jerking to a stop in front of the hotel that they were staying at. All three of them, exited the car at once and moved to race inside to their suites.

"Gabriella?" A husky male voice laced with a German accent spoke. Gaby froze and spun around to find the owner of the familiar voice she hadn't heard in so long. Her eyes went wide when she found who stood before her, with the same cocky smirk that she could recognize anywhere.

"Anton?" There stood no longer a boy like she had last saw him but a man. He was tall about the same height as Napoleon maybe an inch taller. His hair was as dark as a raven's and his eyes were a beautiful clover green color.

"Ich dachte ich erkannte dass das Fahren von irgendwo und sicher genug war ich richtig es ist mein automechanikr Ost Berlin," He spoke in German. 'I thought I recognized that driving from somewhere and sure enough I was right. It was the best auto mechanic in East Berlin.' Gaby rolled her eyes, still after all these years it was her driving that he would recognize and know that it was her.

"Nach all den jahren immer noch nicht akzeptieren kann dass ich immer der bessere Fahrer." 'After all these years, still can't accept that I was always the better driver than you.' He snorted.

"Ich lasse sie gewinnen," He scoffed. 'I let you win,' It was just like 'old times', Gaby thought. As the two began to banter back and forth in German whilst the CIA agent and KGB watched the two, with confused looks on they're faces. Napoleon coughed interrupting their conversation. The man named Anton raised an eyebrow at them.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Anton, these are friends of mine. This is, Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin. Napoleon, Illya this is my…old 'friend' Anton Bohler." Napoleon, always polite and charismatic as he was; held out his hand to Anton to introduce himself.

"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Bohler," Shaking hands with one another, Anton stared at him with curiosity.

"An Amerikanisch? _(American)_ Fraulein, you will have to tell me how you escaped East Berlin and met an American sometime." Gaby shrugged.

"It's a long story," She knew she would have to lie about parts of her escape from East Berlin. She couldn't exactly tell Anton that Napoleon was a CIA agent who had helped her escape from East Berlin.

Anton turned to face Illya who also politely raised his hand to the German man.

"Nice to meet you," Illya said with a deep Russian accent. Anton didn't even raise his hand to shake the Russian's; for he could only glare at the Russsian's hand in disgust.

"You are friends with a Russisch?" _(Russian)_ Illya pulled his hand back to his side. His jaw clenched, hearing the hatred and disgust laced in the German's voice as he referred to him.

"Anton-

"How can you be friends with this-this barbarian? The communist are the ones who practically tried caging us in East Berlin like animals!" Illya could feel the rage starting to build up inside of him, as always when it started to build; his fingers would start tapping at the side of his leg. He was like a ticking tomb bomb that would blow in any second if another word were to leave the German's mouth.

It was no shock since their first mission that Illya had a temper and a rage buried deep inside of him. All from his dark and disturbed childhood, though neither Napoleon nor Gaby knew in detail of his dark past. Illya didn't like to talk about it, especially when it came to his father. A very sensitive subject for him, along with his mother.

"He's…look Illya is different. He's my friend okay." Gaby tried to explain that Illya was her friend and he would just have to accept it. Anton, didn't like Illya but then again Illya didn't like him either. It was clear that neither one of them, would get along with one another.

* * *

As the mission progressed though, in Gaby's free time she would go meet with Anton and 'catch up' as she would call it. Napoleon and Illya hardly saw Gaby other than for the purpose of the mission.

On a night Illya had been hoping to perhaps spend some time with Gaby, because he was starting to miss her but he would never admit that. She again went to see Anton much to his dismay.

He tried to play chess, but he couldn't focus not with the idea that Gaby was with another man. Napoleon pointed out over drinks, when he could see his Russian 'friend' and comrade was struggling to focus on his chess game; that back in the day Gaby and Anton were seeing one another as more than friends. The thought of Gaby and Anton being together, Anton touching her made Illya's skin boil.

Napoleon who was sitting across from him taking a sip of his drink, and realized he struck a nerve with Illya. He should know better than to joke with a KGB agent who doesn't exactly know how to take a joke, especially when it comes to Gaby.

Since their first mission in Rome, he had noticed that his friend the 'Red Peril' as he called him to annoy the Russian had been going soft with her presence. It was undeniable that the Russian agent had started to develop feelings for their German comrade.

"You know Peril; you wouldn't have to worry about someone stealing her away, if you would just make a make a move already." The American suggested. Illya gave him a look and shook his head.

"What you talking about?" It was clear that perhaps the Russian had never been in this situation before. It was true; Illya didn't really care about a lot of things or people. But with Gaby it just came so naturally that in a way, it scared him.

"Take my advice Peril; show her how you feel about her. If you don't, one day someone else will." Napoleon warned as he stood grabbing the bottle of champagne from the bucket on the table. "Now if you excuse me, I think I am going to find some more 'pleasurable' company to share this lovely bottle of champagne." Illya rolled his eyes watching his partner in crime leave to find another naïve woman to seduce into his bed.

Illya couldn't help but think back to his words. The Cowboy, as Illya would call him when he was irritated by him. This was all the time, like now. And Illya hated to admit that the American did have a point.

Memories of their first mission in Rome came back to him. The first time they met, he did think she was attractive, even a KGB agent wasn't immune to finding women attractive. But unlike Napoleon who would chase after the first beauty to cross his path on a mission, Illya would focus on the mission.

Being trained as one of the top KGB agents, he was taught suppress feelings that might cause danger to the mission. This was easy for him, being as he pretty much gave up on positive feelings when he was a mere boy, after his father left.

But it wasn't until their first night, having to pose as a couple they had to stay in the same room. She had gotten herself drunk and had attacked him. He hadn't expected it, but also didn't really fight her either, knowing one move and he could have killed her.

It was the first time, he actually held back from a fight. Only to find, himself pinned to the floor beneath her. It amazed him how even though she was small compared to him she was still strong. In the moment when their eyes met, he felt as if some sort spark ignited between them. She was close enough to kiss him, but before he could have tasted her lips she had passed out on top of him.

But that wasn't the only time that they had almost kissed. But what stopped Illya's thoughts altogether was her uncle Rudi's words. _"A good German girl knows, never to mix the blood of a race horse with that of a cart horse."_ Perhaps he was right, that maybe Illya didn't deserve Gaby. He knew that he has had a dark history, being a KGB agent it came with the job. He knows he's been tainted whereas she is pure compared to him.

Suddenly there was a knock at his door that interrupted his thoughts. Opening the door he lowered his gaze to find Gaby standing there.

"Hi," She said with a grin. "Sorry I know it's late but I didn't have the key." She explained. Illya and Gaby were yet again undercover posing as a couple for the mission, so that required them to stay in the same hotel room.

Illya could only nod as she moved passed him into the room. He closed the door behind her and turned to face her. Sure enough she was already pouring herself a drink like she always did.

"Drink?" She offered him as always. He shook his head.

"No, thank you." He always politely declined and moved back to sit in his chair in front of the chessboard. He felt slightly less agitated with her presence, and thought he could perhaps continue with his game.

She had moved to sit on the couch beside him. She took a sip of her drink as she watched him trying to concentrate on his chess game. He noticed that she seemed to be studying him slightly. It both irritated him and thrilled him to know that her eyes were on him.

He sighed realizing he couldn't go on with his game, with her eyes on him like that. It was her way of telling him that she wanted to talk to him.

"What?"

"Are you okay?" She asked both with curiosity and concern.

"Da," He said. "Is that all you wanted?" She gave him a look.

"You just seem to be distant lately is all," Her words seemed to only ignite fire in him.

"Surprise-you notice," He his deep Russian accent making his words sound like ice. She glared at him, now getting irritated as well by his tone.

"What's that suppose to mean?" She snapped. Gaby didn't understand why he was behaving like this. Sure, he wasn't a people person and always seemed to act cold towards others. But not with her, he had never acted so cold towards her.

"You've been off with German boy." Gaby huffed in irritation as she placed her glass on the table and shifted her body towards him to face him head on.

"That's not true; I have been helping you and Napoleon on the mission. And I stay in this suite with you." She pointed out. He rolled his eyes.

"You are hardly here," He shot back.

"I'm catching up with an old friend." She countered back. "Am I not allowed to reunite with old friends?" Illya scoffed.

"Old 'friend' or 'boyfriend'" This notion he pointed out seemed to catch her off guard. She stared at him and blinked a few times.

"How- she shook her head. "It was a long time ago, but we were friends long ago when we were growing up. Why are you upset? May I remind you that you are not even really my fiancée?" She repeated the words that she had said in Rome to him when they were on their first mission together. When their target happen to show signs if interest in her.

Gaby took this time to notice, his jaw clench slightly at her words, along with his fist. She pondered for a moment as she studied him once again. Illya hated how she could somehow read him better than anyone else could.

"Are you…jealous?" She asked. Now that took him off guard, she was accusing him of being jealous. Could it be true? He had been pushing that thought from his mind. He was NOT jealous.

"No." She raised an eyebrow at him and then smirked.

"You are!" Illya flinched slightly at her accusation and looked away from her.

"No, I am not." He stood from his chair and headed over to the bedroom. She moved passed him and blocked his path towards the bedroom door. He tried to walk around her but yet again she blocked his path. "Please move; I am going to bed now."

"Answer me a question first truthfully and I will let you pass." She was not intimidated by the man in front of her that towered over her. She had seen him when he was enraged before, but also knew that even if he was frustrated, irritated or angry with her; he would never harm her like he would others.

She had been brave enough once to test this theory. Granted she was drunk at the time, but she couldn't resist. She was curious to see how far he could use self restraint.

It was back in Rome, on their first mission. She was drunk, and frustrated with herself. She hated that she felt attracted towards the Russian before her. All her life, she had hated the Russians specifically communists.

So she took her frustration out on him, using his own hands to slap him not to mention to try and start a fight with him. This didn't end well, because she found herself onto of him and couldn't stop herself from gazing into those blue once ice cold eyes. Once their eyes met, it was like something had woken deep within her.

Illya cleared his throat, but gave in.

"What is your question?" His voice much quieter now but still somewhat cold.

" 'If' you are jealous, why would you be?" She knew he didn't want to answer, and yet again try to evade her. But she was faster and again stood in his path. "Answer the question and I will let you pass." She promised. He could see that she wasn't going to back down from this.

His hands were balled into fists at his sides, he wanted to deny everything. Deny what he was feeling for her. He didn't like feelings; he didn't want to be attached. He had learned to stop, because everyone who was important to him in the past had either abandoned or were taken from him. And a part of him wasn't sure that he could bare the idea of her, leaving him or being taken from him.

Slowly his fists unclenched at his sides, and he gave in.

"Potumu chto mysl'o tebe s kemto nevynosimo,"

She stared at him for a long moment. Gaby had recently been learning Russian, and she knew phrases and few words so far. But she knew that, he knew she wouldn't be able to understand his words from his own mother tongue.

"There, I have answered your question. Now I am going to bed." But she still refused to move.

"What did you say?" He said nothing. "Tell me!" She demanded.

"Fine!" He shouted. "I said 'because thought of you with someone else is unbearable!'" He brushed passed her toward his bed to the right close to the window. But before he could get very far, she grabbed him by the arm spun him around to face her. "Wha- He was cut off when she suddenly jumped up so she could grab the back of his head and yank his face down to hers.

Her lips finally-finally, touched his; this time there were no interruptions. No Napoleon to unexpectedly enter the room, no pesky bellhops to disturb them now.

The giant Russian had to bend down slightly to reach her lips. She was even stand on her tip toes just so that she could reach his lips. She was quite pleased with his response, as he slowly wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her up slightly closer to him.

The kiss was tender and sweet and full of meaning behind it. He broke the kiss and let his forehead rest against. Both sighed, as they finally had succumbed and gave into their feelings for one another that had been building since the first day they first met.

"You don't have anything to be jealous of, what I had with Anton was in the past." She broke the silence. "He's not who I want," She paused. Her cocoa brown eyes gazed into his beautiful blue ones. "You are who I want."

* * *

Meanwhile below their suite, Napoleon was grinning like an imp to himself. Holding a speaker to his ear, he had listened to; the Russian and the German's entire conversation. It appeared as Illya hadn't checked his shoes to figure out that he was bugged by the American this time around.

"Well Napoleon, looks like you won 'yourself' that drink." For Napoleon had noticed the tension growing between the two since day 1. It may have taken him almost two months but slowly the little hints and talks with both Illya and Gaby had finally got the couple to give into their feelings for one another.

He was definitely going to also use this new found information to embarrass and annoy Illya anyway he could.

* * *

Note: So what did you think? I was having a hard time with Illya's dialogue because of his Russian accent. I know it was pretty lengthy but I am kind of a writer that tends to write a lot of detail and background to the character's inner thoughts. I have also grown to find that I swoon over Armie Hammer's Russian accent in the movie. Oh and I loved having Napoleon a shipper of Gallya lol I think Illya and Gaby are becoming my new OTP haha. Well review please and tell me what you think. Thanks!

A/N: End of Chapter 1


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